Today was a day like any other. I logged on for my shift. I took the incoming calls. I completed my tasks. But today wasn’t like the other days because today I cried.
Working at Options United, you hear it all:
Requests for birth control, the morning after pill, and STD testing/treatment
Expectant mothers looking for parenting services and resources
People in emergency situations
Reluctant women forced into abortion by their family members or the baby’s father
Post-abortive men and women seeking healing and forgiveness
Mothers who are adamant about abortion or feel abortion is their only option
That and so much more. I’ve heard it all.
At Options United, we particularly follow up with the clients seeking abortion. We check in to see how they’re doing, if they visited the clinic or center we referred them to, and inquire about whether or not they decided to keep their baby. Eventually, you can grow kind of callous.
This one chose to keep.
This one had an abortion.
This one chose to keep.
This one had an abortion.
On and on, the same thing practically every shift. You’re just doing your job. It can get monotonous. It can seem normal.
But today felt different. Today I called and texted many of the clients who had previously called for an abortion. In my inbox I found myself looking at two very different clients.
Below, I had Jacqueline, a woman who tearfully called us looking for an abortion at 20 weeks gestation. Through her call with one of our responders, Jacqueline realized she already loved her baby and, despite her circumstances, didn’t want to abort. Over time, we had checked in with Jacqueline and even interviewed her about her experience. Today, I was following up with her because her due date had passed and I wanted to share the videos we had created out of her interview. Jacqueline texted me photos of her beautiful baby Michael, now 2 weeks old and very healthy. She loved the videos we created and said, “I’m crying! Because of you guys, I have him in my arms!”
Above that, I had a minor who went through with her abortion only two weeks after her high school graduation. Her mother took her to the clinic. The father of the baby was supportive of her decision. She chose a surgical abortion so she could be put under anesthesia and not feel a thing. She had a follow-up appointment with Planned Parenthood and they confirmed the procedure was “successful.”
Successful.
The procedure to rip her baby from her body was successful.
Don’t get me wrong, I’ve heard this many times before and I’m glad she’s not at risk for a septic abortion. But there was something about seeing a joyous save and a contented loss side by side that broke me down. The weight of a life lost and a life altered forever.
I grieve for the baby, but most of all, I grieve for this young woman who knows not what she does. I offered her post-abortive counseling, but she didn’t take me up on it. Not yet, at least.
My thoughts wander to all of the men and women who have called me over the last year and a half, sobbing over the loss of their child, whether the abortion was one day ago or 20 years ago.
I think of the people in my life who have never gotten over their abortion no matter how much time has passed.
I think of the video I just saw of a woman who admitted she had 5 abortions and now finds herself childless at 44 years old even though she loves children. She now realizes her mistake. She feels deceived by the abortion industry. And she says her mother wishes her a Happy Mother’s Day in honor of her children.
This poor, naive young girl I just spoke to thinks her abortion appointment went well. She thinks the procedure was a success. But statistics show that in time she will find that the only success was in Planned Parenthood’s deceit and manipulation, successfully lining their own pockets with the blood of her child. At her expense.
Her body is healing, but her heart, soul, and mind will forever be scarred. It may not be today, it may not be in a year, but one day, that young girl will likely be looking for peace and forgiveness. And if that happens, if she finds herself feeling depressed, broken, or ashamed, I hope she will reach out again for the healing she needs.
So as the phone rings once more, I’ll say a quick prayer for strength, wipe away my tears, and cheerily greet my next client. It’s all I can do.